Blissful Unawares
by orangesofsymmetry
Summary: Phil gets backstage passes for him & Dan for a Muse gig. Dan begins to fangirl over Matthew Bellamy, leaving Phil jealous. Dominic Howard notices how smitten Dan seems with his friend and gets a bit protective. Just a Phan and Belldom story, really.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Undisclosed Desires

**Author**: orangesofsymmetry (Amber)

**Pairing(s)**: Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Matthew Bellamy/Dominic Howard, subtle hints of Dan Howell/Matthew Bellamy. Basically Dan/Muse. Slut. Phan, Belldom.

**Summary**: Phil gets backstage passes for him & Dan for a Muse gig. Dan begins to get fangirly over Matthew Bellamy, leaving a very confused Phil jealous. Dominic Howard notices how smitten Dan seems with his friend and gets a bit protective over Matt.

**Feedback**: I would love it, feedback, is, in fact, the reason I write. So pleasem reviews pleaseee?

**Disclaimer**: Dan, Phil, Muse and any other celebrities are, surprisingly, not mine. This never happened, and (sadly) never will. However, plot and all original characters are mine.

**Notes**: So, hey. I'm Amber, guys. I love Muse a little bit too much, but I ship Phan really hard, so I felt like I had to do a bit of a Muse-y Internetty mash up thing. You don't have to be a Muse fan to read this, and if I do add in any inside jokes, I will explain them. I'll be exploring both fandoms here, flinging in references to other pairings other than Phan, like: Matthew Bellamy/Dominic Howard (BellDom) and Dan Howell/Matthew Bellamy. Before you worry, the last pairing will be very subtle. Nothing will happen between them.

**Additional notes**: i changed the layout of this story so basically the first chapter is just all of the original three crammed together. i'm hoping to get an update out, it's been 5 months so you all deserve one more than anything. i am trying so, so hard, but i've got the worst type of writers block, but we'll see. im aiming for this to be about four chapters long, way shorter than originally intended, but you gotta do what you gotta do. i also want to thank you all for reading this and wow the reviews that i've had (even though there's not an incredible number) is crazy seeing as though this story is almost dead.

* * *

Daniel Howell was bored.

He had spent his waking hours just lying on his bed, his laptop lying on his stomach and his trusty stereo playing Muse quietly, as to not disturb Phil. Currently, he was on Origin of Symmetry, but he had hardly made a dent into it, considering it was only on the first track. He closed his eyes as the heavy barrage of riffs interrupted the soft piano introduction, and leisurely tapped his foot along.

As the song slowly faded into nothingness, Dan felt his mood lift. The next song would be Bliss, an all time favourite of his.

The soft, calmness that the synthesisers brought washed over his in smooth waves, the guitar parts exciting enough to keep him awake.

The lyrics held a meaning that was close to his heart, but for some reason he would never admit that to himself.

_"Everything about you is how I'd wanna be,_

_Your freedom comes naturally,_

_Everything about resonates happiness,_

_Now I won't settle for anything less."_

His mind was thinking of one very specific person, yet he kept brushing that thought away. He could never, ever, even think of that.

_"Give me that peace,_

_And joy in your mind,_

_Give me that peace and joy in your mind."_

Of course he knew why the song was making him feel like it was. He could hear the padded footsteps of Phil outside of his room, and his heart blossomed at the thought of talking to his best friend.

A soft knock came from his door and he sat up from his bed.

"Come in." He called over the music.

"Hey," Phil said, coming to perch on the end of Dan's bed, "guess what?" He said excitedly, his voice rising in pitch.

"You came out?" Dan offered jokily, receiving a friendly, but still firm, punch to the arm.

"No." Phil said, pouting, "it's better than that."

"You have a boyfriend that you want me to meet?"

"Dan!" Phil snapped, but there was still a lightness in his eyes that showed that he was still in a joking mood. "Since you can't take this seriously, I might just give your ticket to someone else."

Dan paused. "Ticket?" He said softly.

Phil's grin stretched even further across his face. "Yeah. But since you don't want to meet them, never mind." He said, turning to leave.

Phil had Dan's full interest, now, and as he began to walk away, Dan sprung from the bed and grabbed him by the wrist.

"Who?" He asked quickly, excitement obvious in his voice. "Who are we going to meet?"

Phil grinned even more and handed Dan an A4 brown envelope. Carefully, Dan tore it open and fished inside, pulling out two passes in a plastic wallet. He turned it over.

"_Fuck. Me_." He gasped softly, staring at the words on the card.

"If you insist." Phil said, interrupting his little moment, and shattering Dan's dreamy state.

Dan didn't respond, instead just turning to look at Phil with round, glassy eyes.

"You... You?" He stammered, unable to form a sentence. Then he screamed.

Phil had thought that it would end soon.

But he screamed. Uncontrollably for the next half hour on and off.

It seemed that Dan was torn between screaming, dancing around the flat, wiggling his hips in a mildly suggestive fashion and hugging Phil, shouting his thanks.

It was funny at first, but eventually the novelty wore off.

He settled down on the sofa, trying to concentrate on Twitter. Somehow, without him noticing, Dan had managed to update his own Twitter.

_"YES MattBellamy I'LL BE SEEING YOU LATER."_

_"I cannot wait to meet Muse, yes, you heard, MUSE!"_

Phil smiled to himself, at Dan's obvious excitement.

After an hour, Dan had finally settled down enough to perch on the sofa next to Phil, but was set off again after an advert had a Muse song in.

Phil sighed.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

It was a long tour.

Matthew Bellamy was lounging in his bunk of the tour bus, his eyes trained on the scenery that it was speeding past.

They had been on tour since October. It was now nearing mid-March. He was on their way to Las Vegas, a place where Englishman Matt just couldn't wrap his head around.

For starters: why build a city in the middle of a desert? And where the fuck do they get their water from?

When the door swung open, he didn't even have to turn around to see who it was.

"Hey, mate." He said, shuffling down his bed when Dom ruffled his hair.

"Hey, we'll be there soon, wanna go and get breakfast when we arrive?" Dom questioned him.

He nodded, sitting up on his bed, trying to smooth his hair that Dom had now messed up. But, having the bottom bunk meant that his movements were very restrictive, and he ended up banging his head against the wooden lattes.

Dom sniggered at him and Matt shot him a withering glare, Dom shrinking away from his cold, blue stare.

Dom held his hands up, "Whoa, whoa, calm down mate," and Matt dissolved into high pitched giggles.

"'Kay." He gasped between a particularly high pitched laugh.

Dom watched his laughing friend with amusement. "Matt." He said softly. "Matt, it wasn't even that funny."

"I know." Matt managed to stammer, still trying to catch his breath. "It's just-" He took a deep breath. "I don't know, you looked so scared for a second."

"I'm seriously considering getting you a shrink, mate." He said and Matt snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, okay you do that." He said, standing up, with extra care this time, so he didn't hit his head and pulling on a jumper.

"Aw, when did you get this?" Dom asked him, tugging on the sleeve of the burgundy knit.

"Um, a while ago." Matt replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know, it's just so cute!" Dom exclaimed. "You look like a little teddy bear aw." Matt flushed deeply at this comment, and even more when Dom wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "So cuddly." He cooed.

Internally, Matt sighed. If only Dom knew what his touches and compliments really made his feel like, but sadly, Dom would be forever oblivious.

It seemed that Matt, too, was oblivious, not to that, but to just how hard Dom was trying to make Matt realise how he felt.

Because all in all, they weren't that oblivious after all.

* * *

The lead up to the gig, was, needless to say, a very traumatic time for Phil.

Yes, he was excited, but he wasn't at the point where every mention of a word similar to Muse would make him have a fit. But Dan was.

It was slightly amusing at first, but it soon turned into a chore. It was like having a hyperactive toddler in the London flat.

There were some highly funny moments, though. Take, for example, when Dan had flailed so hard that he had hit his head on the cupboard door that Phil had just opened. Actually, now that Phil looks back, it wasn't even that funny. Maybe you had to be there.

It was four nights before the gig, and the two were each sat at opposite ends of the sofa, feet tucked under their legs and wrapped up in duvets that they had dragged from their rooms. It had been a warm day, but now that the sun had sunk down the horizon, the temperatures had fallen considerably.

The tv was on, and on screen was a fast paced scene in which Sherlock was sure he had seen a large dog. John was certain he hadn't. Dan, at random intervals, would shout "gaayyy" at the screen and they would dissolve into giggles.

Nestled in the warmth and comfort, the two found themselves nodding off, heads eventually lolling to the side as sleep took hold.

When the two woke again, it was to a very different scene.

The tv had shut itself into stand-by mode and was casting a very low glow from the red light that was still lit.

What was even more remarkable, was how different the boys themselves were.

They were _spooning_.

Almost, apart from Phil was facing Dan.

Somehow, in his nap, Phil had moved to the side to lean against Dan, and Dan, in dreamland, had pulled him flush against him. They had shifted a lot till the got into a more comfortable position; Dan pressing Phil's back into the soft leather of the sofa and Phil's arms snaked around his waist.

It's obvious as to why Dan was confused when he woke. Soft coconut scented tufts of hair tickled his nose, and there was a warm heat pressed to his chest. The heat moved and his eyes fluttered open.

Then there was Phil. As he moved his head back he was assaulted with the image of the sleeping boy. Pale cheekbones and fluffy black hair was all it took, and suddenly Dan was reluctant to move.

He knew it was wrong, he knew it. But he just couldn't drag himself from the warm heat of Phil's embrace.

And so, he placed his head back its former position, snuggling back under the quilts with Phil.

* * *

Somewhere else in the country, two men were in a very similar predicament.

Well, kind of similar.

Matthew Bellamy was drunk. It just so happened that Dominic Howard was too. And with those two, that would only lead to catastrophic circumstances.

This particular night, was remarkable in many ways.

One, for the first time ever, Matt and Dom were smashed out of their minds, and it hadn't ended in a destructive frenzy.

And, two, there was a very different type of energy between them.

It was quite a different kind of night, actually.

_The heinous amounts of shots they had consumed was beginning to haunt the pair as they staggered along the corridor in a drunken haze of tangles limbs and sloppy kisses._

_They didn't even know how it had all started. One moment they were taking shots with Tom and Morgan and the next thing they knew their lips were sealed together in a heated kiss._

_After that they'd had a silent conversation and left the bar in a rush, jumping into a can and making out on the back seats like teenagers._

And so that's how they had wound up grinding in a hotel corridor, three metres from Matt's room.

"Do-om." Matt whined against Dom's lips, then pulling him down the corridor to his door.

"Open the door, yeah?" Dom said, placing kisses down his neck and tracing a finger along his ribs.

Matt fumbled in his pockets for the key card, which seemed to have disappeared. Or maybe he just wanted Dom to get it from his back pockets. Probably the latter.

In the end, that's exactly what did happen, and they let themselves into the room, Matt straddling Dom on the bed.

It's a shame, really, that that's when the alcohol started to really kick in.

* * *

When Matt woke, he knew that something very odd was going on.

His thought was confirmed when his bed moved. His bed _actually_ moved. Like a deep and smooth up then down motion.

He raised his head.

And there he was, passed out on Dom's chest, shirt buttons popped open and shoulders bare.

_What_ had happened last night?

He checked himself, and was relieved to find that his trousers were still on, even thought the button had been opened. It seemed that they'd been quite eager last night.

He thanked a god he wasn't sure he believed in that they hadn't gone all the way and considered his options.

He could either;

One, get off Dom, put his shirt on and pretend that last night didn't happen;

Or, two, go back to sleep.

He knew he should go for the former. The latter could mess up their friendship, something that had been going strong for nineteen years now. He was _not_ going to screw it up now.

But he was so co_mfy_ and Dom looked so good in this low light.

And so, after a long internal debate, he let his head flop back down onto Dom's tanned chest and tangled his fingers into his golden hair.

What he failed to notice was Dom cracking one eye open, or the little smile when he realised Matt wasn't leaving.

* * *

When Phil awoke, he was only slightly surprised to find himself in Dan's arms.

Believe it or not, this had happened before. Dan was quite the cuddler, it seemed. Of course, Phil hadn't told Dan this, because why make an awkward moment?

It was like that time in Jamaica when they had shared a bed. Every morning Phil had woken up to an eyeful of Dan.

Not that he was complaining. It was a nice sight indeed.

There was something different this time. _He couldn't get out._

Normally, Phil had managed to remove Dan's arms without waking him and creep out of the bed to never speak of it again.

But this time, he was _stuck_.

Then Dan started to stir.

_Well, shit._

He panicked, like he would. He had no clue what to do, he was totally stuck.

Two large, brown eyes opened and latched themselves to the blue of his own. They were a hazy brown, blurred by sleep, but from so close, they were so beautiful. So, so beautiful.

Until they widened with panic.

"Oh my God."

* * *

still the same cliffhanger, but i have _ideas _now, which i've been at loss of for months now and i will finish this, _i will!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes**: hi so we're here, a new chapter after the short wait of five months ! god guys i am so sorry, but hopefully you know what i mean when i say writers block. also if any of you are confused about the lack of chapters, i squished the previous three into one nice big chapter. if you see any mistakes that's because i suddenly was hit by the biggest surge of inspiration and wrote this in an hour. i've read through it a good few time, but it's not always easy spotting mistakes, so if you do spot one feel free to point it out.

thanks so so much for giving this chapter a chance, love you guysxx

* * *

In the bustling backstage area, crew and stewards hurried past. Dan could've sworn that he saw Dizzee Rascal walk past, but the thought both terrified and confused him. He had met a fair amount of "famous" people from Youtube, but spending time with actual, real life celebrities was different.

A man with a clipboard approached.

Soundchecks were scheduled to start in half an hour, they were told, and if they wanted to watch then they would have to go up into the stands.

It took all of Dan's strength to not cry as they took their positions in one of the highest stands of the Arsenal home ground. He glanced at Phil, who he noticed was staring at him. He looked away quickly, instead focusing his attention to the stadium.

It was massive, he remarked. Not that he'd expected anything else. The grass was completely boarded over, two large towers rigged with spotlights and speakers rising from the pitch, above two small tents. Dan guessed that that's where all the visuals and lights would be controlled from. There was an impressively long catwalk and at the end a large b-stage, enough to situate the band. And then it came to the stage itself. Breathtakingly large, the stage consisted of three main, triangular screens. There were strips of screen linking the three, and spotlights shone through the gaps. The stage itself had three tiers, the lower tier that was at audience height, the second tier where the band would perform and then the third tier where the drum riser was. _Impressive_. On either side was two winds where Matt or Chris could stand closer to the audience. The stage was topped with six white chimneys, which knowing Muse were probably flame thowers. Around the stage were massive white spheres, around seven metres wide. The whole set was a spectacle.

It was the first time Dan had seen the stage, having avoided the internet in case of spoilers and he was not disappointed. At all.

"So..." Phil said, and Dan jumped, so engrossed in his surrounding that he had forgotten he wasn't alone. "Are we going to talk about it yet?"

Dan knew what _it_ was, yet really wished he didn't.

"I don't really think this is the time." He replied bluntly, peeking though his fringe to gauge Phil's reaction.

"I just want to know if it meant something." Phil admitted quietly, and Dan looked at him properly for the first time. When Phil adds, in a tiny voice "I wish it would" English suddenly seemed like his seventh language.

What to do, what to do.

Kissing him seemed too cliché, and words were failing him.

So he grabbed his hand and choked out something that vaguely resembled a "same".

* * *

Matt and Dom were completely back to normal. Apart from the sex.

It had taken them about ten minutes of talking to establish a few things. One; they were attracted to one another. Two; a shag here and there wouldn't go amiss, especially on long tours. There was only one thing left unspoken; they really wanted it to mean something.

It was obvious, especially to Tom, Chris and Morgan, that there was a tension between the two. It wasn't a bad tension, in fact more of the sexual kind. There were already bets placed on when the pair would give into aforementioned tension, ranging from less than twenty-four hours (Chris) to four weeks (Morgan).

The stage manager directed them onto stage for soundcheck, nerves already kicking crowd or no crowd. They had been informed of the queues around the stadium, and were far too aware of how many people there were out there listening.

* * *

"Oh my God." Dan nearly screamed, breaking from the kiss that he had been quite enjoying with Phil. "They're on stage!"

It was when Dom hit a drum and Matt took his place at the silver, upright piano on the b-stage that it became terrifyingly real. Chris pulled a few strings on his bass, Matt pressing a few keys on the piano before they launched into an instrumental version of United States Of Eurasia.

He heard Phil exhale shakily from next to him and he knew he'd done the same. Seeing Muse live was always the same, the perfect mix of beautiful music, stunning graphics, startling pyrotechnics and pure, raw talent.

The song was cut short, Matt moving from his piano and collecting his guitar from a technician. They watched as the piano was lowered through the stage, replaced with a small drum kit. Matt gave three test strums before leaping into the riff of Supremacy.

Dan came. Not far from literally.

The white chimneys exploded with flames, drums perfectly in time with each burst. Muse had _really_ outdone themselves. The whole screen was pulsing, twisting and turning with flashing images of molten iron, twisting and turning onto the main screen in the centre of the stage.

They watched as the band continued soundcheck, shaking hands clinging together, breath far too fast to be healthy. Adrenaline was running high, excitement and nerves tripling with each stum of the guitar, beat of drum, pluck of the bass.

* * *

From his place on the stage Matt looked around. There was already a few people in the audience, crew, the support acts and the two fans that he was supposed to be meeting in just a short while.

The stage was really cool, he's admit. Far too expensive, but definitely way worth it, seeing as though the fans loved it so much. He heard the explosions of the flame throwers above his head, Chris and Dom's playing in his in-ears and all he could think was: _I cannot fucking wait till there's a crowd._

They had played their four songs needed for soundcheck and made their way backstage.

The band had a word with Dom Anderson and Tom, confirming what the two already knew: _the stage was fucking awesome_.

"Great sounding venue." Matt remarked, nodding at Dom and detaching himself from the conversation with the blond.

He saw Chris nudging Tom and glancing at the couple and sneered at them. Chris rolled his eyes and flipped him the V.

He was about to aggressively snog Dom when the stage manager entered, clipboard in hand.

"They're waiting for you." He announced, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the passage behind him. "It's all set up."

The three nodded, Chris looking disappointed at not winning the bet (yet) and headed towards the blue room.

* * *

"Fucking hell." Dan breathed, glancing round at the room they were in. They were facing a ping-pong table, the Muse logo printed clearly across it and four bats. "I can't fucking believe it, thank you so much Phil."

Phil chuckles. "You're welcome." He sounds quite composed but Dan can see he's not. He is paler than usual, a slight quiver to his hands and he's breathing a little faster than normal.

And then the door swung open and the two were rendered incapable because they were in the same fucking room as Muse.

* * *

kay so it's a cliffhanger again but that's to keep you all hooked, nice plan right? yeah ok

i'll try to get you another chapter and it will _not_ be five months again, promise!


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